


Stray From The Sea

by Anonymous



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Bad Ending, Betrayal, Bondage, Do Not Archive, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Selkies, one-sided Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2019-12-26 10:03:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18280886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Peter discovers there is a selkie working at The Magnus Institute. A dark Selkie AU.





	1. Intrigue

Peter hears about a selkie in Elias's employment straight from the man himself.

"I have hired this young man," Elias tells him as they are in bed together, while Elias is sitting naked on Peter's thighs. Elias's hand is warm on Peter's chest, his fingertips threading through thick wisps of hair. "I believe he would amuse you. He's a selkie."

Peter has been contemplating his bound wrists, how it should be Elias lying on his back, tied and helpless while Peter looms over him. Now, Peter forgets all about the rope scratching his skin, perking up over Elias's words. "How did you find him?"

Elias smiles, sliding his hand over to Peter's nipple.

"Actually, he found me," Elias says. "He wanted to work for the Institute. His fake papers were quite convincing." Elias grasps Peter's nipple tight, giving it a sharp twist. Peter hisses, his cock twitching between legs as it rises against Elias's perfect arse cheek.

"I was interested in seeing what he had to offer." Elias flicks his thumb against the bud of Peter's nipple, pushing his arse ever so slightly against Peter's swelling cock.

"Yes, I'm sure." Peter thrusts upward, rubbing his cock against Elias's arse. "Is he ferocious?"

Elias chuckles. "Hardly. It's difficult to imagine him as a creature of the Hunt, really." Elias rolls his hips down against Peter's, eyes lighting up with pleasure when Peter moans. "He is soft and round. He carries his skin around like it's a coat. If you're close enough to him, he smells like the sea."

"Close enough, you say." It's Peter's turn to laugh; of course Elias knows details like that. "And you'd think he'd amuse me?"

His laughter quiets down when Elias brings his cool hand up to his cheek, cradling it gently as he drags his thumb over Peter's lips.

"I think you'd be thrilled to rip him apart," Elias says, staring Peter right in the eye before leaning down to kiss him.

The kiss is deep, wet and amazing, but Peter is thinking about the selkie. Peter has heard stories about them, the seal folk who shed their skin so they can walk on earth. They're elusive creatures, so it's highly unusual that one has ended up at The Magnus Institute of all places, a place where you See and are Seen. Unusual and absolutely fascinating.

Elias is right: Peter would _love_ a taste.

"Introduce me to him," he says.

*

The meeting doesn't happen in years: Peter is pulled away by the sea and Elias by things to see, and setting up a meeting with a little selkie man simply isn't a priority for either of them. When it finally happens, it's just as delicious as Peter could have hoped for.

"I've got a knife," the selkie warns him, baring his teeth.

It's an utterly unconvincing threat. The selkie - Martin - is just as soft as Elias said he was, all smoothness and round shapes. Martin seems to realize that he isn't being intimidating in any manner, shrinking back a bit as Peter refuses to budge from his spot. But Martin stands his ground, even daring to meet Peter's eyes.

It's adorable.

"Your selkie is very cute," he says to Elias, too, when they meet in Elias's office later. "You aren't interested in playing with him?"

"What makes you think I haven't?" Elias smiles, lacing his fingers together as he gazes at Peter. "However, I think such a creature suits your tastes better."

"Because he's so amusing?"

Elias sighs. "You know what I mean."

Peter does know. Selkies come on dry land in search of partners; Martin Blackwood is obviously and painfully alone. The smell of solitude had been stronger in him than the scent of the sea, it had filled his eyes more than fear had. The allure is undeniable and Peter is interested in more.

"And what do I owe you for this lovely gift?"

Elias gives him a sated smile. "Let me think about that."

*

There is no time for them to think about how Peter could pay Elias back: Elias is imprisoned first, and Peter finds himself in charge of an establishment dedicated to a God that isn't his own. It's not an ideal situation, but what is ideal is that he has his selkie right where he wants him.

"So, what's going to happen now?" Martin asks him after he returns from his vacation, voice and face sullen.

Of course, Peter realizes it's a strange situation for Martin. His poor selkie has lost quite a lot: one friend is dead, one might as well be, the survivors are too haunted by their own suffering and losses to care about him. Martin is alone, and on some level he must know that Peter is out to get him. Yet he's still here.

Maybe it's the hunter in Martin that wants to see things through and find out just what Peter has in store for him. That is an exciting prospect, and Peter lets himself smile over it, reaching out to pat Martin on his shoulder.

"Well, to kick things off, Martin, we need to get the elephant out of the room." Peter moves his hand over to the neckline of Martin's sweater, reaching beneath it to adjust the collar of the button-up shirt that's peeking from underneath. "I know what you are."

Martin, who looks like he's been trying his hardest not to slap Peter's hand away, seems to freeze to the spot. "Elias told you?" he asks.

"He did, the old gossip." Peter wants to touch Martin's throat, but he decides not to; there is time for that. He pulls his hand away, watching a slight tremor of relief pass through Martin before Martin grows tense again. "I want you to know that it's no problem for me. But I do need to know that I can count on you."

Martin's lips twitch slightly over his words, as if he wants to sneer, but he doesn't react otherwise. "What did you have in mind?"

Peter smiles. "Well, I believe you let Elias see your skin."

From the distance, the selkie skin really looks like some old coat, brown in color and covered in grey circles; it makes Peter think of a sofa. When Martin unfolds it, Peter reaches out to grasp the edge of the hide, marveling at how warm and supple it feels underneath his fingers.

"Can you feel this?" he asks.

Martin's throat moves noticeably in a swallow. "Y-yes, I can."

"Hmm." Peter releases the skin, standing back as Martin folds the skin over his arm and pulls it protectively against his chest, glaring at Peter. The sight makes Peter laugh. "Please, Martin, you don't need to look so worried. Like I said, what I need to know is that I can trust you."

Martin snorts. "Like I can trust you?"

"You can." Peter laces his fingers together behind his back, looking at Martin. "The thing is, I need your help so I can run this place and look after its people. I'm not Elias, Martin, so I'll be straightforward about who and what I am and what I want from you. I need you to do the same for me."

The funny thing is, it's all true. Peter does need an assistant, a reliable one; he knows the selkie here can be that. It's just that this assistant's job won't be Martin's only use or purpose.

Martin doesn't know it, but his ownership has been passed into Peter's hands. And Peter will claim him.

"I guess," Martin says, sighing as he lets himself relax a bit. It's his first step towards his doom.


	2. Entrapment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter works on ensnaring Martin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consensual sex in this chapter.

Peter couldn't have asked for a better assistant. Martin performs his tasks without a complaint, acting as Peter's face and voice at the Institute. He is clearly unhappy about the gaps that start to form between him and the other staff members as the result of his new position, but he doesn't act on his unhappiness, accepting the situation. As far as running the Institute goes, Peter is getting exactly what he wants out of his selkie.

Yet he can't help but feel he is missing something. As a wall grows between Martin and the rest of the world, Martin should become more open to Peter, making it easy for Peter to reach inside him and carve him empty. Instead, a sturdy wall stands between them as well, keeping Peter at distance. 

First, Peter assumes that it's simply the Hunter within Martin who remains wary of him, but that's at odds with Martin's behavior in general; his selkie just doesn't have much predatory cunning to keep him from harm. So Peter observes from the distance, and eventually he understands.

It's not because of himself that Martin is keeping Peter at bay. It's because of Jonathan Sims.

*

The Archivist is comatose, lost in the minds of others and his own. He may find his way out one day, but it's a small likelihood; one of Peter's tasks at the Institute is to make sure that the Archivist is taken care of while he's at the hospital, and one of Martin's tasks is to watch over him. Peter had assumed that it was mere duty on Martin's half, employee's misguided loyalty.

But now that Peter is paying attention, it's impossible not to notice how Martin's mind fills to the brim with yearning whenever he's about to visit the Archivist, and his loneliness is never sharper or more acute when he returns from such a visit. It's the kind of loneliness that binds rather than severs, and it's awfully inconvenient.

"You didn't mention that our selkie is in love," he says to Elias when he goes to see Elias in prison, frowning when Elias chuckles.

"I didn't think it mattered," Elias says, his tone nonchalant in a way that makes Peter want to punch him. But, Elias gets more serious: "Peter, your talent is to make people see how truly alone they are in this world. I think your selkie's feelings are nothing but a minor obstacle to you."

Peter has a feeling that he's being condescended to, but he also has to admit that Elias has a point. If Peter really wants to make his selkie his, he needs to work on it.

*

It's Martin's mother who gives Peter his opening.

"My mother's health has taken a turn for worse," Martin tells him in his office one day, his voice small and cracking. He is hugging his skin tight against his chest, resting his chin against it. "I'm, I'm going to need some time off."

"Why, of course." Peter lets his hand find Martin's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. He is pleased when Martin doesn't pull away. "Take all the time you need, Martin. Family always comes first."

Despite getting the permission to be absent, Martin is around more than he isn't. Family death is terrifying, after all, and Martin is so very alone; his family in the sea doesn't care about his dying mother and his human family doesn't care about him. His friends are suspicious of him now that he is working closely with Peter, and the Archivist listens but doesn't hear; that leaves Peter as the only one Martin can rely on. And despite all his better knowledge, Martin can't help himself.

"I appreciate the thought, Mr. Lukas," he says in the beginning, when he declines Peter's offer to drive him to the hospital.

"Thank you, Peter," he says later, when he accepts the offer.

Peter soaks in Martin's quiet despair like it's the most comfortable bath in the world, hoping his own cold is seeping into Martin's bones, into the skin he carries. He keeps poking at the shaky house of cards that is Martin's faith in the Archivist, even when it makes his selkie flash his teeth at him.

"You need to start facing the facts, Martin. In all likelihood, he's not waking up."

"You know nothing!"

Yet, Martin's doubt grows, pulling the noose around his neck tighter.

*

Eventually, it's Martin who makes the first move between them.

They are by Martin's desk, with Peter looming over Martin's shoulder while Martin is trying to show him something from the computer that Peter doesn't really care about. Peter is leaning into Martin's space, just a little bit, breathing in his sea-salted scent.

"Do you want to fuck me?"

Peter raises his eyebrow at the frank question, then smiles. He moves his hand over to Martin's, resting his palm over Martin's knuckles.

"Yes," he says. "What do you think about that?"

Martin says nothing first, continuing to stare at the computer screen. After a while, he exhales slowly, turning his head around to glare at Peter. "Why? I'm- well, I'm not much."

"Perhaps," Peter amends. He strokes his fingertips into the hollows between Martin's knuckles and further down, curious to see if Martin has anything like webbing between his human fingers. "But I don't need you to be much, Martin. I need you to be you."

Martin seems to be doubtful of that, shaking his head a bit. But when Peter pushes his fingers into his hair, grasping him to pull him closer, it's Martin who turns around in his chair to face Peter all the way, tilting his head upwards so Peter has the perfect access to his trembling lips.

It's an invitation Peter can't turn down.

Martin tastes mostly like a human, but the salt of the sea is still there, reminding Peter of how much he misses the sea himself. He slides his tongue into Martin's mouth, tasting, claiming more of him, grabbing his head with both of his hands to hold him near. Martin kisses him back, getting bolder the longer the kiss stretches on, even daring to nip at Peter's tongue with his sharp-edged teeth before sucking on it.

When the kiss ends, they're both breathing heavily, and Peter knows he is hard. Holding onto the back of Martin's head with one hand, he lets the other drop down between Martin's thighs, where he cups his groin; he smiles when he feels a distinct, stiff shape in Martin's trousers, massaging it until Martin whimpers in his throat.

"I'm glad you're enjoying this," he says, grinning when Martin blushes. "Now, do you think you can stand up and bend over your desk?"

He pulls away from Martin, letting his touch linger before stepping out of his reach. Martin sits there stunned, panting with a slightly open mouth before scrambling up to his feet, turning back towards his desk again. He slumps over it, starting to undo his trousers in haste.

Peter lets Martin push his trousers and underwear down to his knees before pacing near him again, reaching out to massage the small of Martin's back, stroking the dimples above his arse with his thumbs. He runs his hands down to Martin's arse, squeezing the ample cheeks; he pulls them apart, rubbing his thumbs into the sensitive space between them and making Martin squirm in the process, especially as he seeks and finds his entrance.

"Peter," Martin whispers, voice airy.

He pulls his other hand away, taking his thumb inside his mouth to get it wet. He takes it back to Martin's arse, rubbing the rim of his tight hole for a while before sliding it inside him. Martin is shivering against the desk, hands balling up into fists as he breathes heavily through his gaping mouth, moaning as Peter shoves his thumb in deep.

The thumb is soon replaced by two, then three fingers, which Peter crooks and grinds against Martin's insides, drawing one moan after another out of him. Martin is rocking himself against him, cock rubbing against the desk; he spreads his legs a little more open, arching his back as he tries to slam his hips backwards, trying to get more of Peter inside him. Peter laughs, pulling all his fingers out; Martin groans in protest, glancing at him over his shoulder.

"Peter, please," he says.

Peter rests one hand against Martin's back, stroking it as he undoes the front of his trousers with the other. His cock pushes eagerly against his hand through his underwear, and Peter takes a moment to feel himself up through his clothing as he stares at Martin's slick, twitching, open hole, thinking of how good it's going to feel once it's squeezing around his cock.

He bares himself, spitting on his hand so he can wet his cock. He keeps stroking Martin’s back before moving his hand down to Martin’s hip, grasping it tight as he presses against Martin from behind.

Martin cries out softly when Peter pushes into him, head hanging low as his body clenches tight around Peter’s cock. Peter drapes himself over Martin, wrapping his arm around him while also reaching down to grasp Martin’s so far untouched cock, feeling it jerk against his fingers. Peter starts to stroke it as he rocks his hips against Martin’s smooth, firm arse, cock sliding back and forth within him.

“Feeling good?” he asks, rubbing his thumb over the wet head of Martin’s cock.

Martin only moans in response, bucking backwards against him. Peter smiles. keeping his movements slow and unhurried as he rocks within Martin, loving the pressure of his body around his length. He could swear the smell of the sea in Martin is stronger now, and when he leans down to kiss Martin on his neck, he can taste it on his skin as well.

“Feeling monstrous?”  
  
He starts moving harder, faster, stroking the plump length in his grasp to the rhythm of his thrusts while Martin tries to move along with him, squirming against Peter’s arm. Peter just laughs, kissing Martin on his neck again before giving it a sharp nip. He is sure his blunt human teeth don’t do much for Martin, but he hopes they do something. He wants to leave his mark on his selkie.

“Peter,” Martin says, ignoring all his questions as he reaches upward with his hand, managing to grasp Peter from the back of his head. He pulls Peter down against him, pressing their cheeks together as he keeps bucking up against Peter, fucking himself against Peter’s cock.

Peter grunts, tilting his face down so he can lean into Martin’s neck again, biting it hard as he starts to come, rocking his hips hard against Martin’s before burying himself to the hilt inside him, balls twitching against Martin’s arse as he fills Martin with his seed. His fist keeps moving on Martin’s cock, stroking and squeezing it until it’s twitching away in his grip, spraying its load on Martin’s desk.

Martin cries out softly, falling slack against the desk as he breathes hard, his hold on Peter’s head loosening. Peter keeps licking at the red bite mark on Martin’s neck, catching every speckle of blood.

*

“This is just sex.”

Martin is probably aiming for unfeeling, but he sounds apologetic instead. Peter smiles at that, kissing Martin on his neck again as Martin shivers.

“Sure,” he says. He can let Martin believe what he wants- for a while.


	3. Tightening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter tightens his grasp on his selkie.

The death of Martin's mother is the beginning of the end.

Martin doesn't show up at the Institute for a while; Peter gives him his space. He is rewarded for his considerate approach when his selkie hunts him down to his city residence, banging on his door.

"I can _smell_ you are in there, Peter! Please, open up!"

The 'please' makes Peter laugh; polite to the last, Martin. He is glad to open the door, glad to receive Martin into his arms when Martin pushes his way inside Peter's flat, his seal skin hanging loosely around his shoulders.

Peter reaches out and runs his palm over that skin, feeling its warmth and the rapid pulse running through it. He slides his hand up to Martin's neck and over to his chin, grabbing it to tip his face up.

"What do you want?"

The despair in Martin's wet eyes is pure like a cold wind.

"I want to forget," Martin pleads, voice shaking. "Please."

Peter is very happy to help.

*

The aftermath of the Flesh attack should be the second and final strike.

"I have a price for my help," he tells Martin as Martin stands in his office, still flushed and panting from the attack. Maybe Martin is flushing from shame, too; even though he had run to get help, he had still run, and that's what people are going to remember. "I want you to stop holding me at arm's distance, Martin. It's really getting in the way of our co-operation, and we need to start working together."

"I don't understand," Martin says, fidgeting a bit; Peter wonders if the Hunt is demanding Martin to make up for his lack of participation in the battle, even though he had been utterly unsuited for it. "We have been working together all this time."

"Yes, and it has gone splendidly. But now, it's time to take things a step further." Peter has been leaning against his desk; he straightens up and takes a step closer to Martin now, who tenses but stands his ground. "There is a mission I need to fulfill at this place, Martin, and for that, I need your unconditional support. Will I have it?"

Martin hesitates, clearly balking at the concept of unconditional anything. But he knows that there are still plenty of dangerous things out there, just waiting for a chance to attack the institute and its people; if he doesn't want anything like this to happen again, he needs Peter's aid. He needs to decide whether his freedom is worth more than lives of others, and they both know what the answer to that is.

"I will need more information," Martin says, nostrils flaring as he lets out a shaky breath. "But fine. If you protect everyone here, you can have me."

This should be the moment of victory.

"Let's make a deal, then," Peter says, reaching out to rest his hand on Martin's cheek. "Seal it with a kiss, Martin."

He doesn't even have to draw Martin in; Martin leaps against him, wrapping his arms around Peter's neck as he presses his mouth over his.

This is when he should have Martin for good.

*

Except:

Martin keeps lingering at the Archivist's bedside, as if he's rooted there. He submits to Peter, he even bares his soul to him, but no matter how deep inside him Peter reaches, there is a part of Martin that remains out of his grasp.

Peter just doesn't understand.

*

There is something else, too.

More and more often, Martin slips away underneath a bridge near the institute after a work day. When Peter follows him there, he sees Martin strip himself naked, taking his seal skin into his hands as he crouches down onto the river bank. As Peter watches, Martin pulls the hide on, his body twitching and shuddering beneath it as he begins to transform.

The seal Martin isn't much different from the human Martin; he's large and soft, with big, flabbergasted eyes, and he moves clumsily as he drags himself towards the river. Peter watches in silence as Martin heaves himself into the dark water, disappearing underneath the surface.

Peter doesn't know if Martin is going to swim all the way to the sea, or if his selkie family comes to meet him somewhere in the river; it doesn't matter to him. What matters is that Martin hasn't kept his promises; not only is he still loyal to the Archivist, but his selkie side isn't as distant to him as Peter thought it was. Even if Martin was to lose Jonathan Sims, he could still defect to his family in the sea, meaning all Peter's efforts would be in vain.

He won't allow that to happen.

*

Peter tells Elias about his plan.

"That seems like a drastic approach," Elias comments, with a smile. "Are you sure you want go that far, Peter?"

Peter isn't entirely sure, actually. Things have got a little out of hand; he should be more indifferent than this, more detached. He shouldn't be putting so much effort into someone who should just be a pleasant pass of time for him.

But should he succeed-

"It would destroy him," he says. The mere idea gives him chills; he cherishes them as they rock through his body. "I would love to see that."

He can tell from the glint in Elias's eyes that Elias feels the same way.

*  
"You have been working so hard, Martin."

This is a familiar position for them now: Martin sitting by his desk, trying to work on reports and other insignificant things while Peter stands behind him, his hands on Martin's shoulders. Peter massages the tense flesh, working on the knots he feels underneath the skin with his fingertips. 

"We have both been working hard, actually," Peter continues, paying no heed when Martin snorts. "I think we deserve a little getaway."

As always with new things, Martin tenses over his words. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I would like to take you away for one weekend. On a boat, preferably." Peter smiles, kneading his way up to Martin's neck. "I think both of us would enjoy a trip to the sea."

The longing within Martin is instant and sharp, confirming what Peter has suspected about him. Anger sparks inside him, but Peter forces it down, keeping his voice and touch soft as he goes on: "I have a  boat ready for us."

"The Tundra?"

Peter laughs. "No, a smaller one, where we can be alone." He leans down, brushing Martin's hair out of the way so he can kiss him on the neck. "What do you think of that?"

Martin's only answer is a shiver, first.

"Sounds good," he says, sighing as he leans into Peter's touch.

Peter smiles against his skin.

*

They set sail on Peter's sloop, The Snow Fox, late at Friday night. It's amusing for Peter to witness Martin trying his hardest to pretend he isn't excited about being out at the sea, that he doesn't want to inhale all the salty air into his lungs and lean over the railing as far as he can go. When the boat stops for the night, Martin almost doesn't mind when Peter walks up behind him and entwines his fingers into his hair, grasping for a firm hold.

"You are needed below the deck," Peter says, smiling as Martin sighs and gives in.

It's rare for them to share a bed, but tonight they have no choice but to do exactly that. Peter has Martin strip nude for him, laughing as Martin shies away from his gaze and tries to hide his body.

"Why are you hiding? It's nothing I haven't seen before." Perhaps not to this extent - it's rare for them to completely undress around one other, too - but by now, Martin's body is familiar to Peter, familiar and wanted. "You have no reason to be ashamed."

He knows Martin doesn't believe him, so he appreciates it when Martin drops his arms anyway, allowing Peter to have all of him.

*

As they lie spooned in the bed together, Martin falls asleep.

Peter waits. He strokes Martin's arms with his fingertips, pressing light, trailing kisses along his neck until he is sure that Martin isn't going to stir. He kisses Martin once more on the cheek before slipping out of the bed, pulling his trousers on.

Martin's seal skin lies folded on top of the chair, as unassuming as its owner. Peter picks it up, and leaves the cabin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is going to be brutal.


End file.
